Sophie..I couldn't contain my excitement as I hurried down—not even the dull pain in my ankle could make me move any slower as I headed down the hall towards Luca's room.The soft scuffling of my slippers against the tile and the rapid beat of my heart was anything but silent. I clutched the portfolio to my chest, its edges pressing into my fingers, a tangible reminder of the incredible opportunity that had just landed on my lap. I could still hear the client’s voice in my head, praising my work and expressing his eagerness to see what I could do with his project when he had contacted me minutes ago.Luca's door was slightly ajar, and I knocked quickly before pushing it open. He was seated at his desk, clad in a plain white shirt and casual black trousers, a faint smile playing on his lips as he looked up from his laptop."Luca!" I burst out and leaned in, my voice dancing with excitement. "You won't believe what happened!"He leaned back in his chair; a smile played on his lips, c
Alex..I stumbled into the room, the clink of the glass bottle in my hand resounding off the walls. Benjamin looked up from his seat, concern etching lines into his face as he watched my erratic movements."Alex, man, you need to slow down," Benjamin said, standing up to steady my movement.I shrugged off his attempt, my eyes glassy and unfocused. It was easier for him to say when he wasn’t the one who just lost the woman he loved.Memories of that night—the night she left with Luca—still etched in my mind; every emotion I felt was still engraved in my veins.“She’s gone, Ben,” I slurred, my words heavy with drunken sorrow. My grip on the bottle tightened as I dropped into the chair, chugging down the alcohol.Benjamin sat across from me, propping his legs on my sturdy wooden table between the sofas in the middle of the room.I rose unsteadily and trudged towards him, kicking his legs off and returning to the seat.Benjamin’s face contorted into an expression I was too tipsy to disc
Sophie . . I stepped into the office; the click of my heels against the marble floor echoed in the empty room. I settled into one of the seats and waited for the contractor. A pang of anxiety gripped me—it had been a long time since I had done something like this. I had spent almost all night preparing questions I would ask and anticipating answers to questions they might pose. Mr. Beckham,entered and greeted me. "Good morning, Sophia," he said as he settled into another seat. "Good morning, Mr. Beckham," I replied, rising briefly before settling back into my chair. Mr. Beckham took a few moments to praise my work as though he were seeing it for the first time. "This is a significant project for our group. We've been searching for a designer with a creative vision, and we believe you're the one. We plan to allocate $500,000 for the interior design phase," he said, his tone turning serious. "However, the project needs to be completed within four months to align with our overal
Sophie . . I woke up in the soft glow of dawn, cradled in the warmth of Alex's arms. His breath was slow and steady against my neck, and his body curled protectively around mine. I must have fallen asleep. For a moment, I let myself savor the illusion that everything was fine. But I knew better. I gently disentangled myself from his embrace, careful not to wake him. As I slipped out of bed, a sense of urgency pushed me. I opened the closet and found my clothes still hanging there. After changing my outfit, I made my way to the door. When I opened it, I nearly ran straight into Mia. She stood there, her face twitching as her gaze deepened. “What are you doing here?” She sneered, her eyes heavy with anger. “Forcing yourself on Alex?” My body tightened, anger boiling inside me, but I took a deep breath. I wasn’t going to let her get the best of me—not again. “You must think every woman is like you.” She scoffed and grimaced. “Well, at least every woman isn’t like you—barren.” Sh
Sophie . . "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sharp and defensive. "What did you hear?" She shot me a nasty stare. "I didn’t hear anything. I just got here," I defended myself. "I just came to ask you about the new edit. Romi said you rejected it again." Mia's eyes narrowed, skepticism written all over her face. "It's bland," she finally said flatly. "It lacks any vibrant colors and flair." "Bland? Are you serious? We've put so much effort into making it perfect," I said, a pinched expression forming on my face. "And I literally worked with the colors you gave me." "Oh, you did," she retorted, a cunning smile snatching her lips. "I changed my mind; use different colors," Mia added. "You and I both know you would reject it again," I said, crossing my arms. "This has nothing to do with the designs; you just want to sabotage my career." Mia inched closer, her eyes fixed on mine, amused by tormenting me. "Why would I want to sabotage something you don’t have?" sh
Alex . . I stood in front of the mirror in the middle of my closet, buttoning up my white dress shirt. Memories of last night flooded my mind—Sophie had been in my arms. A smile crept onto my lips, a fluttering feeling crawling beneath my skin as I remembered her touch, her warmth, and her scent. But the smile morphed into a grimace as I also recalled Mia attacking her this morning. My stomach knotted as I remembered the chaos I was still in. "Sir Alex, Mr. Benjamin just arrived," Alma's voice interrupted. "Thank you, Alma," I replied, finishing the last button on my shirt. Moments later, Benjamin's voice echoed through the room. "Alex." Emerging from the closet, I tossed my black suit and waistcoat onto the bed. "I thought we were meeting at my office," I remarked. "You know I have a company to run," Benjamin retorted, about to prop his leg on the wooden frame before changing his mind. I smiled, picking up the waistcoat from the bed. Benjamin ran one of the largest cybersec
Sophie . . I walked into the fifth artisan store. At 10 a.m., yet my body was weak and tired from moving about, hoping to find this piece. I had no idea why Mr. Beckham was so persistent about this particular item, and I wasn’t bold enough to tell him I couldn’t get it. I just can’t afford to look incompetent. "Excuse me," I said, showing the man behind the counter the design—a black wooden moon with curved lines carved in it. "Do you have anything like this?" He glanced at it briefly before shaking his head. "No, we don't." Disappointment pierced my heart. I asked, "Do you know any other store that might?" He sighed and shook his head again. "Sorry, I don't. This design isn’t a popular one." “Thank you.” I smiled and left the shop. Slipping into my car, my phone rang—it was Luca. “Hey,” I said immediately after I picked up, trying to brighten my voice. “How’s your search going?” Luca questioned. Exhaling heavily, I responded, “Not great.” I massaged my forehead. “They sai
Sophie . . My phone ringtone played an alarm, waking me up from the sweet arms of sleep. My hand blindly fumbled the bed for my phone, and when it found it, it brought it to my face. “Hey, Romi.” I yawned soon after picking up the call. “Mia has started again. She just set a meeting by 7:30,” she uttered, frustration pinching her voice. “What?” I jolted up. I glanced at my phone—7 a.m. “Why would she do that? And Mr.Beckham?” A little grunt escaped Romi. "Mr. Beckham doesn’t give a fuck what she does as long as she brings the fashion show to his hotel.” She added. “I’ll be on my way.” I ended the call and sprang up. A sudden wave of dizziness forced me back onto the bed. I shut my eyes and massaged my head for a few seconds before springing up and heading to the bathroom. Sitting here and dealing with morning sickness wouldn't help. I had fallen asleep in my clothes last night after getting home very late—probably around 11. I was so tired, I hadn't even bothered to change.